


Love is Our Resistance

by vsilver



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Maybe some crying too, Mutual Pining, Naga Crowley, Protectiveness, Rescue Mission, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 13:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vsilver/pseuds/vsilver
Summary: Aziraphale is feeling guilty after leaving town following a disagreement with Crowley. When he hears about hellfire and a mysterious beast causing a ruckus in downtown London he hopes he can find Crowley in time before he is dragged back by the forces of hell. Oh, and apologize while he's at it.





	Love is Our Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a couple weeks after the Armageddon-not. 
> 
> I have been wanting more stories with Aziraphale or Crowley transforming into monstrous forms to protect one another. Title based on a Muse song I just can't get out of my mind.

It had been weeks since they had stopped talking. A little disagreement had been blown out of proportion and truth be told Aziraphale didn’t care about who was right or wrong, only that a feeling of how immature he had been plagued his mind at that time. He’d been too stubborn to apologize right away and work had gotten in the way for the remorseful angel to check up on his favorite demon.

During that time Crowley didn't stay away from his mind too long. It was funny how every little thing reminded Aziraphale of him, from the changing warm skies on chilly mornings to the act of combing his hair. The events that had led up to the Armageddon-not and thereafter bound the two’s livelihoods hand in hand just having a meal by himself reminded Aziraphale how he disliked dining solo. He couldn’t feel content just sharing silence with just anybody, or taking the long way to a local park or find Aziraphale’s uncool speech so charming. Just anybody wouldn’t do for good company like his Crowley.

Crowley had suggested they take a big break from the world now that they were responsibility free and do whatever the hell he wanted, together with Aziraphale. But the angel was adamant about it, worried if they let their guard down too soon something more dreadful than being kidnapped for an execution could happen! He didn’t want to worry Crowley so he’d fumbled for a lie about having to keep some distance (at least until the powers above and below had a time to cool down). They knew they were more than just consorting enemies in their eyes. 

Gabriel and Beezlebub probably thought they shared more than just plans to conspire against the ineffable plan. How could he let this drag on for as long as it has, they’re older than humanity for Heaven’s sake!

 _We’re lucky they didn’t try to interrogate us for information. Or worse, try and pit us against each other!_ Aziraphale had rambled on at the time of their little spat.

 _If they couldn’t get us to hate one another for six thousand and odd years they can’t now._ Crowley countered.

 _They’re crafty, your and my people. We’re not invisible, Crowley._ He’d sounded so desperate at the time. Aziraphale felt sick just thinking about the nightmare of never seeing each other again. His personal hell would be never saying goodbye to that which he was closest to. _They will try to twist our words against one another._

Crowley was rubbing Aziraphale’s arms to soothe his worried angel with that mischievous grin that could calm the tides in the smaller man’s heart. 

_We don’t kiss and tell._ Teasing Aziraphale was much too fun for the demon. And those golden eyes of his. Oh, those sharp and confident eyes of his!

The bus he was made its passengers jump as it missed slowing down for a speed bump. Aziraphale was awoken from mid-thought reliving how the demon always managed to say something that made him feel so lucky.

He was finally returning home one Monday night, just a few stops more before arriving to his bookshop. The bag on his lap was readjusted and he looked back outside surprised to see the street busier than usual. Many people out with their cameras looking at something in the sky. It was peculiar, and as he thought this, he overheard some of the passengers behind him chatting loudly about something on their phones they’d seen.

He put Crowley’s heartwarming grin out of his mind and gave his attention to the group of office workers discuss a video they replayed over and over on their phones.

“It’s probably some escaped rhino.” One of the women said as other shook their heads. “All that damage on those buildings is not something a car could do!”

“Rhino don’t just run rampant in London destroying cars and shops! I bet it’s that ghastly thing people have been seeing all night. You seen the posts on Twitter? A hideous beast lurks our streets!”

“Whatever it is,” said a short older woman, “it’s going to put this whole city up in blazes!”

“All the fires and sightings all over the news, there’s got to be a connection,” said a man as he turned the volume up on his phone. Aziraphale could hear a snip of chaos from the device. As a reporter spoke about fires popping up the crowd forming around what he could assume was a blazing fire yelled in horror. All the chaos was momentarily cut off by a blood curdling scream and a bigger burst of fire set of some car alarms and screaming.

Aziraphale recognized the pained voice clear as day. Crowley was in deep trouble. He turned in his seat watching the faces of the group behind him exchanging different degrees of terror. Tapping at the older woman’s shoulder he meekly pointed at her phone.

“Pardon me, where is that newsfeed airing?”

-x-x-

_Angel, why are you fighting me on this? Let’s run away, this is a golden opportunity!_

_I’m not, I'm just-- the Armageddon failure is still too fresh! We shouldn’t be planning for retirement just yet._

_Failure?_ Crowley took a step back, wounded at the words coming out of his mouth. _It was a success. For us._

Aziraphale had continued to turn Crowley down. His eyes looked anywhere but at the demon as he fidgeted with his hands, holding himself back from taking the offer. It was all Aziraphale could dream of. It’s the kind of life he yearned to have and a fantasy, be it selfish and wonderful, he couldn’t let himself have so easily. If he allowed himself this happiness he’d surely let his guard down and…if he was the cause of Crowley’s end… 

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Aziraphale dashed towards the parked emergency vehicles and barriers around a group of warehouses engulfed in flames. There was a foul odor in the air. It wasn't the fire itself that caused the overwhelming stench though, but a distinctive scent Aziraphale knew was a sign of heavy demon activity that made his eyes watery and invaded his lungs.The attack on all six of his scenes made the wings hidden in his back itch in the particular way they did when danger was afoot. 

With difficulty he squeezed past the barrier. An officer came towards him yelling at Aziraphale to get him to turn around as he grabbed at the angel's sleeve. They locked eyes for a moment and knowing that no plea of his would get the man to set him free, Aziraphale miracled a frightened stray cat to land on the man's face, uttering a small sorry as he bolted towards the buildings. 

Disappearing into a gigantic warehouse Aziraphale could quickly tell he was dealing with hellfire, straight from the underground. He pushed a door open with his foot. Crowley must be close, he could feel his wings twitch in anticipation. The sturdy hands that groomed them… it made Aziraphale a little more confident in his crazy decision to walk in there unarmed. Maybe he should’ve taken his flaming sword back. 

Inside heavy machinery was totaled, melting from the heat, and several long burn marks across the ground from something that had been dragged across the ground. There was signs of a fight among beasts with blood splattered and debris hanging loose. Aziraphale’s brown shoes became caked with dried blood and dirt as he quietly made his way through the darkness and away from the fiery parts of the building. Both hands were cupped together and over his mouth along with his scarf turning a little more pale at every new crater or sign of a vicious fight. He prayed desperately there was still a semblance of Crowley left for him to heal.

He failed to notice the centaur following him, nostrils flaring as it stalked the angel. 

“Ah!” Aziraphale gasped as recognition dawned on his face at the sight of a familiar pair of broken glasses. He dropped to his knees realizing the pool of blood and tattered remains of one of Crowley’s favorite suits. Abandoned, also, on the ground was a set of cufflinks he’d gifted the demon. The angel’s face twisted in sorrow, biting his lip to keep from making a sound. For a moment, despite how short it was, he wished the world had ended all those weeks ago. At least then they’d have been together.

High above him something shifted along the metal rails. Aziraphale turned quickly, face void of expression as the thought that the demon was gone overtook him. It wasn't Crowley.

The centaur beast proudly showed it’s ghastly face drooling and sickening sight to see. It gave a triumphant snarl when it locked eyes with Aziraphale before jumping down and knocking the angel out before he could react. 

-x-x-

Funny story, as far as rescues go. As it turned out another demon had provoked Crowley to come out for a fight. Specifically provoked him enough to show his true fallen form. Aziraphale had only heard rumors, from other angels, of what Crowley was like. The rumor mill was still strong and prevalent even up above. 

Fallen angels like Crowley had an affiliation with the animal they represented whether that was controlling swarms of flies, having qualities of frogs or in Crowley’s case the ability to change into one. Sure Aziraphale had dived a little in accounts about humans having seen his demon specifically, but he didn’t want to be too privy and straight up ask him. Felt too rude. Plus, the mystery of what Crowley might look like was kind of exciting anyway. One of the few sources of shame stemmed from the small collection of books, fairytales and articles on the subject of nagas tucked in a special trunk hidden in plain sight at the end of his bed.

He had many silly questions on the subject. Aziraphale heard it was something akin to the mythical creatures known as nagas, a serpentine body with the top looking more human but a mix and match version. After all those illustrations and stories had to have come from somewhere, right? Aziraphale wondered if Crowley kept any shred of his human appearance, if it still smelled and sounded like him. What it must feel like to be held by the demon.

Oh, right. Back to the foiled rescue.

Waking up from the sudden nap Aziraphale was greeted by the sour odor from earlier. His wings sprouted from his back and through his clothes as a defensive response, trying to shield their owner from the scent that made that made it difficult to breathe. Another demon similar to the first one, smaller but just as nasty, crashed through the wall with the smell only got stronger.

It cried in pain and though Aziraphale had shrunk to the ground, shielding himself into a protective coat of white feathers. He took note of the several puncture wounds scarring the creature. From the hole it had crashed through a sharp hiss was heard. Aziraphale swallowed hard as Crowley made his grand entrance. His mouth hung open at the breathtaking sight.

Damn, was he _massive._

The hellfire behind him made his thick, jet black scales shine as their owner moved with ease through the ground. Crowley’s serpent's tail started below the waist with the rest. Bands of gold tastefully ran down his stomach and decorated his wrists and neck. His features ran gray and more sharp. Yet, with all the adverse changes he carried himself just like Crowley. All Aziraphale could think about was how he really wanted to close the gap of space between them.

His ruby red hair ran long and tousled but in a flattering manner that hid half the naga's face. Even under the unusual circumstances can he still find a way to cooly hide his face, how delightfully Crowley thought the angel.

The real thing put Aziraphale’s centuries of daydreaming to shame. Perhaps if he were adorned quite handsomely with fine jewelry as if royalty, around the top of his head and across his bare chest? Red jewels too. His mind was getting way ahead of itself. He looked so regal already though, so exquisite so handsome! The angel was so glad to see him he almost missed the fresh battle wounds.

“ _Crowley!_ Oh thank the stars. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Called the angel as he opened up his wings only to be overwhelmed odor once again. It made Aziraphale dizzy. Three sets of demons eyes looked to Aziraphale and each other before they rushed for the angel. Crowley, so long and at an advantage against the other two whipped one attacker into nothing but a crater on the ground with his powerful tail before landing over Aziraphale.

The angel gasped as he walked back spooked from the commotion, his knees growing week as he was gently pushed against a wall by a single claw. Dizzy, Aziraphale’s line of sight followed the ghostly arm up to meet the gaze of the unfamiliar-yet-so-familiar face of his dear Crowley. 

Aziraphale felt his face flush pink feeling like he was going to pass out. The once yellow eyes were clouded, gazing at him like Crowley was one syllable away from remembering his name. The demon’s mouth hung open panting from exerting his body, forked tongue familiarizing himself with the scent of Aziraphale. His face was so close but he looked to be growing calm, Aziraphale felt his heart melt as Crowley succumbed to the angel and rested his weary head over that welcoming shoulder of his. 

“ ** _Angel_** ,” the weary demon spoke in a deep pitch, and ooh. Aziraphale could feel cold fangs right against his soft throat as Crowley could barely be heard over the crackling of the hellfire around them. “ **You’re okay**.” He sobbed. The naga sounded so miserable, as if he’d finally been relieved of a millennia suffering. It always felt like that for Crowley when they don’t talk. As he felt more and more like his old self the putrid scent intensity began to go away. Aziraphale managed to put his arms around Crowley’s neck and finally it disappeared completely.

More of those centaur creatures broke out of the hole Crowley had charged out to give chase. The overdue reunion was cut short as Aziraphale felt a large set of claws scoop him up. He had a front row seat against the large serpent as the other demons were skewered easily or hacked to pieces. Aziraphale closed his eyes not wanting to see. He pushed himself tighter against Crowley. He supposed he should feel terrified or maybe a little flustered, but truth be told he’d never felt safer. 

Once they were all dealt with Crowley had slithered away to a nearby park and high into the trees carrying Aziraphale like the precious cargo he was. The angel had not said much besides mumbling that it was a good thing it was so dark and cloudy out tonight. 

“ **Hold tight, angel.** ”

He was unceremoniously pushed up against the tree trunk and pinned there by Crowley’s new weight. Aziraphale again felt incredibly warm and embarrassed. The demon was merely making sure Aziraphale held onto the tree as he morphed back into his regular body. It was a slow, taxing process but eventually familiar hands held onto Aziraphale’s shoulder for support. He turned to grab onto his tired partner, looking pale but terribly happy.

“I could sleep for the next hundred years,” whispered the demon in a horse voice as it returned back to it's usual tone. He rested his tired head against the warmth the angel offered him. It filled a desire Crowley had yearned for weeks. “Why the hell did I get us up so high? Fuck, I’m so exhausted Aziraphale.”

His turn to do the holding, Aziraphale maneuvered his body around and carefully wrapped his arm around the other’s waist. “Dear,” he whispered in his most gentle voice, “what happened?”

Aziraphale could see the veins beneath Crowley’s skin tighten, as did that smell from earlier threaten to resurface. 

“Let's not dwell on that now, for my sake. if I change again I might pick another fight elsewhere,” he nervously laughed. “I’m just going to rest my eyes a bit, okay?”

“Of course, Crowley.” His fingers combed through familiar red strands of hair.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you around.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be right beside you when you wake up, darling.”

“Nice.”

Rain began to pour as Aziraphale felt the demon’s entire weight slump against him. Aziraphale brought his wings around the both of them, providing them with a little shelter before he could miracle them back to his shop. But first he’d gather his thoughts and calm his heart. He couldn’t help how happy he was as Crowley cozied up to his body heat. He looked so peaceful resting against him. Below them the firefighters finally got control of the fire.

Aziraphale could feel his eyes start to glaze over as he thought about how forgiving and casual Crowley could be after such an ordeal. Something then clicks in his mind, a certain something that Crowley had assured of himself and what drove his confidence. Love kept the demon going. It was that same love that would help the demon keep them together whether Heaven or Hell had anything to say about it (again). Crowley had always known for a long time.

He believed so much in them. _We’re on our side.,/em > _

_The tears came rolling in._

Well, if obstacles were going to be thrown their way regardless of how good or bad they are then so be it. Nothing was going to tear them apart. Aziraphale would split the world open and tear down the sky before he’d allow that to happen. 

-x-x-

A few days had passed before Crowley finally stirred in bed after the ordeal with Hell and his stressful transformation. The bandages on him made the remaining scales on him itch but at least his hair was washed and he had a fresh new pair of sunglasses on. Crowley began to tell his story to the angel as a tray of tasty breakfast sandwiches were presented to him after eating miserably for weeks before; food just tasted much better when Aziraphale was around. 

He had been on his way to meet him at one of the bus stops before a couple of demons popped up wanting to give him a piece of their mind. Something about preventing the war of worlds they had yearned for centuries all because of some idiot's infatuation with an angel. 

Currently the exhausted man was still curled up in Aziraphale’s bed doing everything possible to not sit up. The little nest of blankets and familiar scent was his little haven not that he’d ever admit it aloud. It almost made all the trouble from earlier worthwhile. Besides him on a wooden chair was his dear Aziraphale peeling off the skins from apples and cutting them into slices before handing them to Crowley while he raved about his ordeal like a bedtime story that'd put any action flick on TV to shame the way he shook his arms miming the battle of beasts. He was still a bit riled up, but pacified for the most part thanks to the pampering. It wasn’t every day someone did the bathing and dressing for you. 

“They had a convincing double of you. Scent, speech patterns, mannerisms, almost everything like you! From the direction you comb your hair right down to the way you make double knots of your shoe laces. You should’ve seen it.” 

“Almost? Sounds like they fooled you enough to get a rise out of you that extreme.” 

“I’m not so easily duped but… if I tell you you’ve got to promise not to make me go into detail. Please?” 

“Well that’s not fair. That makes me want to know more badly.” 

“I’m serious, angel! Don’t ask me too much with what I’m about to say. You want to deal with a _forty foot naga_ destroying your bookshop?” 

“Okay, alright,” surrendered Aziraphale as he raised his hands. “I promise, dearheart.” 

Crowley blushed at that, doing a poor job to hide it underneath the mountain of blankets. “Well. They said they had you hostage, and at first I wasn’t convinced, I was never convinced it was you by the way. It’s just that… they proceed to kill your double.” His voice grew very quiet. “It isn’t just the face that they got accurate. So was your voice.” 

Aziraphale stopped his knife, eyes watching as Crowley slipped his glasses. There was so much hurt behind that gaze of his. He wanted Aziraphale to see. 

“It didn’t matter that I knew it wasn’t you, it was enough to push me. It wasn’t like the time I thought you were taken at the bookstore fire before Armageddon. I thought-” Crowley’s voice broke, “I couldn’t-” 

Aziraphale reached out, gently tipping Crowley’s chin to face him. The look he gave him was tender, the demon’s tight mouth broke into a timid smile. “The thought of you being in agony because of me drove me _absolutely **livid**_.” 

The demon’s skin threatened to transform into scales again. Crowley’s face had grown pink, a stray tear beginning running down his face. Gently, the angel climbed on the bed as well. Crowley made some room, moving a bit before completely gluing himself to Aziraphale’s left side, hands holding onto the angel as if he’d be gone any moment. 

“Crowley, _Crowley_ ” repeated Aziraphale in a quiet voice as if Crowley were a frightened doe who would flee at any moment. “You gave me quite the scare yourself. When I heard you over the sirens I was so afraid I wouldn’t reach you. You sounded like you were in such agony.” 

" _I was_!” mumbled Crowley into his thigh. 

“I thought I’d never get to apologize for our little quarrel weeks ago. I even got you a little gift.” 

“Y-you did?” The demon lifted his head slightly. Aziraphale combed his fingers through the messy, red hair. His face looked so silly, he was too old to look so excited over a gift. “Can I have it now?” 

“Of course.” Aziraphale pulled away, Crowley sitting up and half following after him as the man reached for the small envelopes in a chest at the end of his bed. 

“I’m sorry too, honey. Sweetie. Angel,” cooed the demon. “I guess since you’ve seen me, the real me, I can finally ask you-" 

“You are quite handsome in your original form. Well, your fallen form.” 

Crowley raised a brow. “Really? Honest to the powers above and below?” And in a low whisper, “even the smell though?” 

“Well, at first I thought it was from the other demons, but then I realized it was actually coming from you. It was dreadful at first but as soon as you realized it was me it went away.” 

“Huh, strange. Good, but strange." 

“Indeed.You’re quite easy on the eyes. Better than my books. And when you swept me up--!” 

“ _Stooop_ ,” laughed Crowley as he playfully pushed Aziraphale, “I’m getting jealous of myself." 

He was handed a small stack of envelopes, all with Crowley’s address written it and not one of them stamped. 

“What’s this?” he asked as he flipped through them, each from a different origin address from whichever location Aziraphale had been doing work these past few weeks. “Your old mail?” 

“ _Your_ old mail. I had intended to send them to you but, well, every time I thought about you reading them and not having apologized in person I felt guilty. But I also felt too bad just throwing something with your name on it away.” 

“Aziraphale you sap,” Crowley uttered in a strained voice. He was on the verge of tears again. It surprised the angel. “I am very vulnerable at the moment.” 

“My apologies Crowley,” smiled Aziraphale as the other smirked. 

“You big softy! This is the stuff you see in those tear jerking romance movies.” 

“Including a handsome naga?” teased Aziraphale as he raised his brows in emphasis. The demon let out a string of incoherent blubbering. In an act of revenge Crowley tore open the first envelope, unfolding its contents to give the angel time to realize he was going to read them aloud; each and every one of the twenty-odd something letters. 

“Crowley wait- Let's not be too hasty now-” 

“To my dearest Crowley,” he began in a very hoity-toity voice. Aziraphale groaned at that as he shyly looked at anywhere but the demon. He wasn't so sure he'd written that in but with how desperate he was to mend things with Crowley at the time he wouldn't put it past himself. “I write to you from the train station as I await my ride out of town. I’ve just been thinking about your voice and how it continues to silence everything else in my mind. I sound like quite the catch." 

“Excuse me, as if I’d write that down!” He'd never be that honest about his feelings if to not give Crowley the smug satisfaction. Said demon poked his bandaged body from underneath the blankets further. After a bit more fussing eventually Crowley was reading the letters quietly to himself. Aziraphale could tell what passages he read with how big that crooked smile spread on the demon's face. 

He found himself smiling at the ceiling thinking about taking a nap for himself after looking after his partner worrying when he'd finally wake up. The days had stretched for what felt like an eternity. Crowley eventually got worked up with the reading, too pleased with just how much Aziraphale couldn’t keep him out of his mind. If time allowed it, he'd read them forever. Aziraphale would probably confiscate them though. 

"You, erm, seem to like them so much. Maybe I should write to you more often." The thought put Aziraphale in a daydream. He should go stationary shopping soon. Maybe he'd pick up some scented paper, or design a stamp to mark every single one. As he pictured all the ink and colors that he could try out he failed to notice Crowley just opening staring at him. 

“Aziraphale. Don’t think for a second I forgot about the naga books you mentioned earlier." 


End file.
